


at least we don't have to wear leather to fight criminals

by imgoingtocrash



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Leverage
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Post-Finale Fic, olicity spotting, post-3x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoingtocrash/pseuds/imgoingtocrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not odd for the Bridgeport BrewPub to be light on customers between the lunch and dinner hours. A few early drinkers and college students mill about, but it's usually a planned downtime for people to change shifts and stock up for the upcoming dinner rush.</p>
<p>So when a fairly young couple comes in, hands linked, there's really no reason for Eliot to pay special attention to them.</p>
<p>Except he does."</p>
<p>While Oliver and Felicity are on their road trip post-3x23, they stop by the Bridgeport Brewpub in Portland, Oregon. Eliot recognizes Oliver and Felicity tries Thief Juice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	at least we don't have to wear leather to fight criminals

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the #OlicitySpotting prompt outoftheclosetshipper suggested.
> 
> I'm currently working on a massive AU endeavor at the moment, but I woke up this morning with this idea and couldn't stop myself. I love AU and crossovers so much, but many of my ideas sort of just stay ideas and deflate without becoming anything, so I'm glad to call this finished.

It's not odd for the Bridgeport BrewPub to be light on customers between the lunch and dinner hours. A few early drinkers and college students mill about, but it's usually a planned downtime for people to change shifts and stock up for the upcoming dinner rush.

So when a fairly young couple comes in, hands linked, there's really no reason for Eliot to pay special attention to them.

Except he does. He's usually the only one of the team to actually work in the front house area, delivering food to the customers sitting at the bar or leading their usual head chef in food prep. However, when his gaze moves up at the new customers as they're being seated for one second that's long enough for him to get a feeling.

It’s nothing specific, something akin to itch that needs to be scratched. Something the team gets when a plan is going irreparably wrong. When a target isn't taking the bait. When someone is using guns, making his job a whole lot harder. So when Eliot feels it, he tries to look busy as he turns his divided attention to the couple.

The man is tall, at least 6 feet, with defined, toned muscles hiding under his leather jacket. While the man's posture is relaxed, he knows what it's like to have the weight of people to protect always on your shoulders. Snapping into action becomes a necessity, so you set it somewhere in the back of your mind and keep it there. That man has trained himself into a weapon, ready to fire.

Yet he's looking at the blonde across the table from him with such adoration it's hard to imagine him capable of defending himself from an unexpected strike.

The woman is talking animatedly, gesturing with the hand not set in the man's. She's wearing a brightly colored dress and a pair of strappy sandals, which is surprisingly appropriate considering how rare a sunny day in Portland can be. She reminds him a little of Hardison, that whole geek-meets-genius vibe that radiates off of folks that are more than what they appear to be under their glasses. (And blonde hair, in this woman's case.)

Despite most of his observations screaming that they're just an innocent, happy couple, the few setting off red flags make him stop Amy, who’s used to their weird requests, before she goes to collect their orders.

"If they ask for alcohol, check the IDs and let me know what they say." He says, patting her shoulder in hopes of conveying that they're not in any danger.

To his luck, both customers order some sort of alcohol and brandish their IDs. He's glad that ID checking is a standard for their establishment at moments like this.

"Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak. Both from Starling City." Amy says, hussling off to the kitchen before he can involve her in whatever he’s getting into.

He mutters a thank you on his way to the back room. He knows the name Queen, though he can't seem to place it.

"Babe, as much as I think it would be entertaining to watch, I think you trying to eat 20 differently flavored cupcakes in one sitting is a bad idea. Especially when I'll be the one sitting in the bathroom with you tonight as you-" He hears Hardison first, who's leaning on the table in front of their monitor wall.

"I'm not going to throw them up, I promise! It’s not even for me! I wanna send some to Sophie but I don’t know what she’d like best.” Parker, who's sitting on the table, replies, arms decisively crossed in front of her chest.

"I just think you don't have to do it all at once-"

"Yes I do! You just don't understand the importance of-"

"Hey!" Eliot shouts, because sometimes his fellow former criminals need to be corralled. "I need you to look up 2 names for me. Now."

"Okay, first of all, rude. Second, y'all know how I feel about taking orders without words like 'please' or-"

"Hardison." Eliot bristles, tightening his fists at his side. It's not like he's gonna beat Hardison up, but he knows a good motivation technique when he sees one.

Hardison mumbles "Fine." along with a few other choice words under his breath as he enters Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak into his computer.

"Man, you didn't even need to ask me to run those names. Felicity Smoak is one of the top hackers out there, including me, of course. She recently got promoted to CEO of Palmer Technologies. Their tech is up there with every other Apple and Android product on the market."

"What about Queen?" Eliot asks, watching a few mugshots and paparazzi candids flood the screen.

"This file is one hell of a read. Starts out with a few misdemeanors: DUIs, destruction of property. Dude even peed on a cop. Then Oliver Queen gets stranded on an island for 5 years. After that it shoots to straight up charges of vigilantism. He was accused of being the Starling City Vigilante, better known as The Arrow, a couple of times,” Hardison rolls his eyes at the thought before continuing. “The charges never stuck, but it was a massive news hit in Starling after all of the terrorist attacks in that place and how the vigilante helped save the city. Oliver also used to be CEO of Queen Consolidated before Palmer took over. No wonder he's here, he's probably flat broke and too ashamed to go home after losing the company."

"But if that were true, why is Felicity with him? Maybe she's giving it back." Parker suggests, swinging her legs back and forth.

"Shoot, I wouldn't. Oliver ran the company into the ground when she was his EA. She's had the whole thing on lockdown since Palmer disappeared in some freak explosion."

Eliot mulls the information over for a moment before it clicks. The vigilantism charges may have been proven false, but he knows why Oliver Queen seemed familiar to him. "He's Russian Bratva."

Eliot wasn't ever officially inducted into the Bratva because he was a freelance hitter, but he was hired for many jobs with hefty payouts from their organization many years ago.

Hardison startles. "I'm sorry, are you implying that Oliver Queen, former rich playboy, is part of the Russian mob?"

"I'm not implying, I've seen his work. He was close to Anatoli Knyazev. Anatoli said that Queen was like a brother to him, that he saved his life once. His specialty was arrows. He would fire them into his victims. Pull them out. He knew all the other regular Bratva torture techniques, sure, but he always had a thing about this damn specially crafted wooden bow..."

"So now he's part of the mob _and_ a vigilante. Well that's just great. Awesome. Superb. Might as well just relinquish the bar now before he murders us all."

Eliot rolls his eyes and rips the tablet out of Hardison's hands, putting the security cameras back on the monitor. Since Parker’s little adventure without them around, they’ve kept the audio equipment around the bar, just in case.

"I just don't understand how a pub's 'special blend' can be so blatantly disgusting." Felicity has a glass of Thief Juice in her hand, and she's staring it down like it did her wrong. _That's what you get for ordering that swill._ Eliot thinks.

"If you'd just ordered a regular beer like I did you wouldn't be having this problem." Oliver takes a bite out of his burger as Felicity flicks a french fry in his direction.

"But it was called Thief Juice! I mean, not that we're thieves or anything, but...come on you have to admit I couldn't just leave that alone!"

"Felicity, you can never leave anything alone. It's one of the many reasons that I love you," Oliver pauses, squeezing Felicity's hand. "But you also have to admit that drink was a mistake."

"You're no fun, Mr. Queen." Felicity grabs the glass from Oliver's hand and takes a swig, which makes Oliver shake his head and chuckle.

"Does that look like a man who's come to shoot our restaurant up to you?" Eliot asks.

"Hardison, are we that gross?" Parker asks, watching Oliver lean over the table to kiss Felicity with a grin.

"Yes." Eliot answers, while Hardison answers "No." in unison.

"Nate and Sophie were worse." Parker says, but with love in her voice. They all love the now happily married couple, but watching them go back and forth for 4 years previous made for many eyes rolled among them.

"So are we just gonna let him go, then?" Hardison asks, prepared to go on lockdown if needed. Eliot doesn't think that's necessary this time, though.

Eliot leaves the room without a word, Hardison and Parker curious and on his heels.

Oliver and Felicity are leaving as their group approaches. Oliver puts his hand out to keep Felicity behind him. He clearly remembers Eliot better than Eliot remembered him, then.

Eliot holds out his hand and says "Звоните, если вы когда-нибудь понадобится помощь, виджиланте."

Oliver's eyes widen slightly and he gives Eliot a strong handshake in return with a smirk at Parker and Hardison.

"Приятно видеть вас счастливыми слишком фрилансер.” Oliver wraps his arm around Felicity's shoulder, guiding her to the exit before she gets to ask any of the questions she clearly wants to.

"You took a picture of them to post online, didn't you?" Eliot asks, turning around to see Parker and Hardison giggling like children at Hardison's phone.

"We're at least sending it to Nate! I.Y.S. used to do insurance for the Queens. I bet he'll get a kick out of knowing he helped another criminal turned hero."

“You calling us heroes?" Eliot asks, even though it gets easier to believe with every case they take.

"I'm just sayin', we are pretty heroic..." Hardison shrugs.

“At least we don’t have to wear leather to fight criminals.” Parker laughs, obviously trying to picture all of them in outfits like Oliver Queen and his band of vigilantes wear.

“True.” Hardison assents.

**Author's Note:**

> Russian:  
> "Call if you ever need help, vigilante."  
> "Nice to see you happy too, hitter."
> 
> Sometimes with foreign language in fic, I actually try and use dictionaries and stuff to create the sentences properly, but with this one I just wanted to get it so that if you copy/pasted to google translate, it would be close enough. (Though I did have to substitute hitter for freelancer because there's not a great Russian word for Eliot's occupation.)
> 
> There was a temptation to have Oliver and Felicity use fake IDs and have that be why the Leverage crew would confront them, but I decided that this road trip is supposed to be very pure and fun. It's not about cover IDs and actively being heroes. (Through you can't tell me they don't participate in small acts along the way.) It's about finding themselves away from all of that, even if that means occasionally someone recognizes them for one reason or another.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I'm on Tumblr by this username if you have any questions/comments/etc.


End file.
